Category Archives: All about me

Happy news!!! After many rituals and sacrifices (the donuts didn’t feel a thing, I promise) my dark short story collection Girls & Aliens is getting published by my favorite people, Cutting Block Books. You may recall a few other collaborations in the past – Misery of Me and Bad Seed remain my personal favorites, if I may say so – and will reunite editor extraordinaire Frank J. Hutton and myself.

5 girls, 5 aliens, all dark and gloomy and sad and angry and victorious, for some of them. Don’t expect happy endings, it has never been my style; but do mark you calendars for spring 2018, a few Skellies might find their way into giveaways…

So, yeah. After self-publishing the crazy 5-book series in one year scheme — and suffering one great loss — I needed a year off writing. Things happened far from all good in 2015, and it was time to deal with stuff they don’t teach you at school. “Death is part of life… we all go through that cycle… they’re still with us…” When it happens, you’re still not prepared. Even if you convince yourself that you are, that you knew it was coming, it’s still a shock that never really wears off. Hurt lessens with time, but doesn’t truly goes away. It’s still there, somewhere I try to forget/hide/push.

Then, The Cure announced a massive world tour. Of course they did, since the universe needs to balance itself out. Whenever they’re around, things happen. Good things. Impossible things. And this time was no exception: what happened to me (personally, not in any case globally) in 2016 can only be described as magical, surrealist, and fucking awesome. Life changing, as the impact of The Cure’s concerts.

1996: The Swing Tour. My plans to live in the UK for the first time finalized the same week as The Cure performed in Montreal. The shittiest tickets I’ve ever got to watch a band live – and this is MY BAND – but they were there, breathing the same air, performing in front of me for the first time, so I got over it eventually. Wait. Actually, I still resent sitting at the far end. They were so small on the stage, I needed to squint and even then I could hardly make them out. Seriously bad seats.

2000: The Dream Tour. Two days after seeing them super-close in Toronto (thank you, Lady Karma), I received the course selection to a 5% acceptation rate film school. Faith was sang on a stage drenched in red, I cried at From the Edge of the Deep Green Sea (as I always do), I hummed Another Journey by Train on the way home, and the pattern was set: The Cure brings me luck. Or more likely, the key plot twists of my life are connected to their vicinity.

2004: Curiosa. I met them. I. met. THEM. Thanks to my friend’s DD cleavage (and a very dumb bouncer) we passed through the security check points and VIPs, to land in the presence of Robert Smith and Simon Gallup. I. Met. Them. It’s been more than a decade and I’m still not over it. And to think that I got a phone call that day telling me I was accepted in my Master’s program in the UK…and I was witness to Forever live. Both moments equally unforgettable.

Sweet Jesus, right next to me. And I look demented. But still, I. Met. Him.

2008: 4Tour. Sometimes it’s looking back that one realizes small changes snowball to a huge impact. That night, as we ordered the second bottle of wine that made us late for the concert (and I subsequently missed A Strange Day: it still hurts), I told my friend I was switching from filmmaking to writing. Big deal, since I was leaving life-long dreams of directing… and an eight-year education, huge student loans, and the tiny dent I hoped so much to leave behind.

2016: First row, center. Best. Concert. Ever. Like good wine, they only get better with age. They announced the tour less than a week before I bought my first car, and I went to the concert two weeks before getting the keys to my first house. I get how the law of attraction works and when we’re happy good things happen…but come on. The Cure did this, yes they did. They are magical beings sent to make my life better – as they have since I first heard Close to Me in 1987. A simple thank you seems so trivial after being the soundtrack of my life.

***

So yeah, I needed time to do other things than write for a while. I needed a breather, some space to let my mind wander to new projects and other horizons. And believe me, it has. A novel is in the works after finishing off a short story collection. The year off was a good thing, it brought me where I was always meant to be: home. My beautiful house filled with antiques and pets, where The Cure plays loud and proud every day, filling me with such gratitude for their existence in this dark, dark world.

Hunter’s Trap is only one week old and already reviews have poured in. Is it love? Well it certainly makes their hearts pitter-patter, which is always what I try to do. Bringing chills, a little fright, a good creep… I aim to spook♥

Well, it has arrived: my book. MY. BOOK. I’m so pleased, proud, scared, excited, a little noxious and so much in love. It looks like I wanted, it reads like I wanted, and I’m so happy to let it go on its own, in this scary, scary world beyond my computer.

Go, fly little one, and if you’re to come back, only with specters of black feathers…

Whispered Echoes Series

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Thank you

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Copyrights

The material found on this blog belongs in its entirety to Anne Michaud. Copying parts or entire stories will be punishable by law. And if by some unlucky twist justice doesn't prevail, the author will hunt you down, cut your balls/boobs off, and will leave you bleeding under a desert sky.
You have been warned.